The Love Olympics
by Canadian Hogan's Fan
Summary: On your mark, get set, go! When our hapless hero Blue gets a call from his aunt and uncle to babysit, he brings along his favourite TV show to watch on their brand new 3D TV and wrecks havoc on Hogan's world. Or is he exactly what the heroes need to complete their latest mission? The game is on! Waring, some Gary Stu elements.
1. Chapter 1

There's a fine line between genius and insanity and I think I just crossed it. Actually, I think I sped right over it and off a cliff. Or maybe I just ate an expired bag of Chips Ahoy and dreamed the whole thing. I'll let you decide.

It all happened a few days ago. My aunt and uncle felt sorry enough for me, their date-less wonder of a nephew, to ask me to babysit my cousins Teegan and Josh while they enjoyed their first night out in a month. "We figured you could use the cash since you're paying your way through school," my uncle said. Like the two dollars an hour they pay is going to put me through UCLA. Hell, at that rate, I'd be 70 before I could pay off clown college.

Anyway, I decided to humor them and go over to their house on my only evening off in two weeks. I kind of felt sorry for them, actually. I hadn't finished ringing the doorbell when they shoved me aside and ran for their BMW.

"Thanks," I muttered when I saw what caused the stampede; 10-year-old Teegan trying to shove a piece of Lego up seven year-old Josh's nose in the family room. "Hey!" I snapped, grabbing it out of her sticky hands. "That's not a very nice way to treat your brother."

"Blue!" Josh shouted, coughing up a Lego Indiana Jones.

Oh, I forgot to mention, Blue's my nickname. I won't tell you my real name. Any parents who'd name their child what mine named me should be tried for human rights violations.

"Hey kiddo," I said, mussing his hair while returning Teegan's stuck-out tongue greeting. "You guys ready to have some fun?"

Josh's eyes widened the way they did when it was Christmas or a birthday party. "Yeah! You wanna play hide and seek?"

I yawned. "Not tonight, pal. I'm pretty tired."

His eyes filled with disappointment. "Oh, okay."

_Great, Josh, way to make your cool cousin feel like a shmuck_. I reached into my babysitting bag, a waterproof sack I also put my wet bathing suit in when I swim laps on campus. "Well, I've brought something special for you guys. I like to watch this when I want to relax." _Like I was going to do until your parents called. But when they told me you guys just got a 3D TV and a Blu-ray player with a 2D to 3D converter, I could hardly refuse the opportunity to watch my favourite TV show on it._

Teegan folded her arms as she took on her pouty kid stance. "Mom says you're not supposed to bring things to watch anymore after last time."

Right, I'd forgotten about that. The last time I came over, I brought the Beatles movie _Yellow Submarine_, which my roommate Kevin lent me. "The kids'll love this," he said. "It's a cartoon classic." Unfortunately, the 'cartoon classic' sent them into hysterics and gave them acid-esque nightmares for a month. As it was, I spent the rest of the night trying to rip throw pillows from their faces. The kinky boot beasts in the Sea of Monsters scene disturbed Josh in particular. He made me look under his bed five times to make sure they weren't getting ready to step on him once he fell asleep.

They must have been on his mind, as he trembled when I pulled out my DVD set. "Is that the bad movie?"

I raised my left hand. "Swear to God, Josh, this isn't the bad movie. I promise this won't give you nightmares."

Teegan squinted as she studied the set's green cover. "Hogan's Heroes," she read. "What's that?"

"A very funny show from the 60s."

She scrunched up her nose as if I'd told her we were going to watch rotting bananas all evening. "What's that? Is it, like, really old?"

I frowned. "Yes, but, old doesn't mean bad. This show's about good guys who live in a prison camp during the Second World War. They play all kinds of tricks on the bad guys."

Josh perked up, though Teegan remained unamused. "Mom says we shouldn't watch anything that makes fun of war heroes," she said curtly.

I sighed as I popped the disc into the player. My aunt would say something like that. She thinks _MASH_ should have been cancelled after the first episode because it was insulting to sensible, rational guys like Frank Burns. "Well, Mom's not here right now, so it's okay."

I took a pair of 3D glasses for Josh and I and offered one to Teegan, who decided she'd rather watch a spider crawl up the wall. Josh started bawling as soon as the piracy warning came on screen. I couldn't really blame him. Those warnings kinda scared the crap out of me too at his age.

I hugged him and sat him down on the couch with me. "Awh, don't cry. This isn't sad. There's lots of funny characters, like Newkirk, Klink, Schultz and Carter." _Better make sure I don't play any of the Hochstetter episodes. That guy would give a kid like him night terrors until he turned 17._

Josh nearly jumped out of his skin when the siren announcing the menu wailed, but did a little butt-wiggle dance when the drums started playing. Unfortunately, he was bouncing up and down on my lap while he was doing it, but, hey, at least he'd stopped crying.

I looked at the episode menu. _In your face Kevin. You said the converter wouldn't make it 3D, but it did. In fact, it's showing an episode here I never saw before_. I squinted. _Those glasses really take getting used to. Funny, I don't remember this one_, Codeword Love. _Huh._

I selected the episode and hit play. "Teegan, come watch." She was studying the carpet now.

"I'd rather watch _Sponge Bob Square Pants_," she mumbled under her mop of straightened hair. My aunt kills me. She objects to her children watching classic TV, but she's styling Teegan's hair like Jennifer Aniston's. I tell you, there's no accounting for taste.

"Fine." I turned back to Josh, whose eyes had widened again. That's when I got my first clue something wasn't right. Instead of the show cutting directly to the credits like normal, the screen filed with a shot of the guys in the barracks. Hogan paced, looking ready to throw in the towel, while the rest of the gang watched.

"If any of you fellas have any ideas, I'd be glad to hear them," Hogan said.

Carter stepped forward. "Let me get this straight. London wants us to rendezvous with an underground agent coming to camp to pick up the Enigma code book we swiped from that Admiral at General Burkhalter's party last week?

"That's the demolitions guy," I whispered. "He gets really excited about blowing stuff up." _Maybe a little too excited_. "The other guy's Colonel Hogan. He's in charge and comes up with all these great plans to fool the Germans. I wrote a story about him once."

Did I mention I write fan fiction? Well, I do. Ever read _Hogan's Heartache_? Or _LeBeau's Longing_? (For France, by the way. You wouldn't believe how many people thought it was about something dirty.) Anyway, I started telling Josh about _Hogan's Heartache_ when I got my second clue. It happened so fast I wasn't sure I'd seen it, but I could've sworn Hogan glanced over and glared at me. I shook my head. _Freaky shot. Who does the director think he is, Alfred Hitchcock?_

The screen cut to Newkirk as he continued Carter's train of thought. "And London wants us to come up with a diversion for every ruddy Kraut in camp while we pull off the exchange?"

"The English guy's the tailor and thief," I said. "He's always stealing things."

Josh frowned. "Doesn't that make him a bad guy?"

"Not really. He uses his bad skills for good."

"That doesn't make sense!" Teegan protested.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, it would if you'd watch!"

Hogan raised his voice. "Like I said, if anyone's got any ideas, I'd be glad to hear them."

"I suppose this means LeBeau and I aren't going on leave tonight, are we?" Carter asked.

The Colonel nodded. "As of right now, all trips into town are cancelled."

LeBeau ripped his beret off his head. "London's gone too far this time! It's been almost two months since we've been able to leave camp. I've been here so long it's amazing I know what girls are anymore!"

Hogan sighed. "I had plans tonight too. Believe me, I'd much rather be attending to them. The sooner we come up with a plan, the sooner we'll be off the hook."

"I've had it," the Frenchman muttered. "I really mean it this time. I'm sick of this place and I'm sick of London's impossible demands!"

I grabbed the remote, disappointment setting in. "Who wrote this script? It's garbage! Nobody's in character, especially Hogan! C'mon Colonel, you can do better than that! You robbed a bank and made a hot air balloon under the German's noses for God's sake. This is nothing."

The choochoo train of sanity derailed when Hogan turned towards us, his hands on his hips. "Alright, hot shot, if you're so smart, you figure it out."

My jaw dropped. "You can hear and see me?" _How is that possible?_

"Unfortunately." His scowl deepened as the other heroes stared at us. "You said you write fan fiction? You wouldn't happen to be one of the authors we took to court, would you?"

I broke out in a cold sweat. I'd managed to escape a summons for the last trial. Now, it looked like my luck had run out. I shook my head. "No sir. I don't write any angst stories. In fact, all my stories are happy." My mouth started telling them what I thought they wanted to hear before I could stop it. "Right now, I'm working on a romance story."

Teegan grabbed her 3D glasses as the gang started jostling each other.

"Who gets the girl?" LeBeau asked, poking his head around Hogan.

_Great_. The truth was I didn't have any romance story. In fact, I hate writing romance stories. "I don't know," I stammered, as the gang got a hungry look in their eyes, kinda like the cheesy Eric Carmen song. "I haven't decided yet."

The men burst out in angry chatter, a few terse words in French and British English coming my way, while Hogan stared me down. I was full of it and he knew it. I suddenly cursed the people who came up the stupid idea of creating 3D TVs. They never mentioned crap like this happening in the ads. Dizziness and motion sickness, yes, but not characters coming to life.

Newkirk flashed me his best lopsided smile. "Make the bird English and send her my way."

LeBeau elbowed him out of the way. "Make her French with an affinity for short men."

Carter frowned. "What about me? I'd like a girl from Alabama. Then I could kiss her before I take her home every night and see if the stars fall."*

Kinch's face wore a disgusted expression. "Hey, I'd appreciate the company the most! I'm the one who gets out the least!"

Hogan cupped his hands to his mouth. "Fellas, that's enough. We've got bigger problems right now." The men ignored him, their discussion growing louder and angrier. "Fellas?" He put two fingers between his lips and whistled. That failing to get their attention, he fixed me with another glare. "Look at the mess you made! Now what am I supposed to do with them? I can't expect them to focus on anything when they're like this."

I started to push the eject button on the remote. "I'm sorry this is getting too weird. I don't know what went wrong the day you filmed this, but this shouldn't be happening."

"Drop it!" he barked. I let the remote fall, even though I knew he couldn't hurt me. _Or could he?_

Hogan paced back and forth, rubbing his chin the way he did whenever he was thinking. "I can't carry out this mission by myself." He gave his now quiet men the evil eye. "And you guys won't be of any help to me until we get a straight answer out of this clown."

"Well," I huffed. "Slap a red nose on me and call me Bozo. What do you want me to do, hold a Love Olympics and the guy who wins the most competitions gets the girl?"

Hogan snapped his fingers. "That's it!"

Oh, perfect, I thought sarcastically. _Why didn't I suggest picking names out of a hat like any normal person would've done? Then again, any normal person would've checked into the nut house by now._ "What do you mean, that's it? It doesn't make sense. You should be worried about getting that code book out of camp, not holding Olympics."

He grinned. "Isn't it obvious? This is the perfect cover. It'll keep the Germans busy until our contact gets here. It'll be so unusual around here they won't notice anything else strange, like us passing on the codebook."

I started to protest, but realized there was no turning back. Hogan was in full scheming mode now. "We'll have different competitions judged by people in camp."

I held up a hand. "Hold it! I make up the prize, I pick the competition categories and judge them."

Hogan shook his head. "Absolutely not. Not unless we get veto power on what events we compete in and our own judges."

I sighed, feeling as exhausted as I did whenever I negotiated with Josh about his bedtime. "How about I give you veto power, I judge everything and you pick your judge for each event? We'll combine both scores to determine the winner. We can use a 1-10 scale, like they do on _Dancing With the Stars_."

Teegan stared at me like I'd just said I fell off the moon. I guess it's not every day their cousin, with an aversion to anything feminine, admits to watching ballroom dance-based reality TV.

Hogan turned to his men. "What do you think?" They nodded as they mulled the idea over. Their leader looked back at me. "Okay, you've got a deal. What do you have in mind for the events?"

"Well, uh, how about we start with opening ceremonies, like the real Olympics. Everyone could…." My sentence trailed off as I started to snort back a giggle.

Hogan folded his arms. "What's so funny?"

The giggles turned into full-blown laughter. Teegan and Josh started laughing too, though they sounded more like hostages laughing at a machine gun-wielding maniac's bad joke. "I'm sorry," I gasped. "I was going to say you guys could carry a torch."

Okay, insert muted trumpet sounds here. What can I say? I was raised on T_he Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle _and _The Muppet Show_. I like cornball humor.

Evidently, Hogan didn't. "You were saying?"

I wiped tears from my eyes. "You could do opening ceremonies and light the Olympic flame. I mean, if you actually intend on going through with this, you may as well do it right."

Carter leaned closer to his commander. "Boy Colonel, it sounds like fun. I've got a really great idea for how we can light the flame."

Newkirk's face lit up as he produced a nickel out of LeBeau's ear. "And I could have a go at some magic tricks to start the party."

Josh clapped and laughed as LeBeau swatted his friend away.

"There's just one problem," I said. "If you get approval for this, just who's going to compete?"

Hogan tilted his cap back. "Since Kinch, Carter, LeBeau, Newkirk and I are the five Allies with top billing, that should qualify us to compete."

The supporting players, led by Olsen, booed.

"C'mon fellas, you all can't compete!" Hogan protested. "It would be too hard to pick a winner. How about you draw straws to pick a special judge for each event, and this slob here will write the winners their own love story?"

The boos subsided. "Okay," Olsen said, turning to me. "So you'd judge, we'd judge, and Colonel Hogan and the guys would pick another judge. What about the Germans?"

I tapped the remote. "Well, I'll leave that up to the Colonel, but I don't think we really want them competing. After all, you're the guys who stick your necks out the most in this series. " I turned to Hogan. "Well?"

Hogan nodded. "I agree. Let the games begin and," His eyes twinkled. "May the best man win."

*Reference to the song, Stars Fell on Alabama.


	2. Chapter 2

"Is this the way this show's supposed to be?" Josh asked as we watched the guys, with Klink's blessing, convert Stalag 13's entrance grounds into a stadium, complete with stands and podium.

"No. This is, well," I paused. "I don't know what the hell this is, actually."

"It's stupid," Josh muttered.

I almost told him to give it a chance, but Iwas just as skeptical as he was. _ I just want to go home and watch a TV that doesn't talk back to me. _

"Excuse me, Colonel," I said when Hogan came on screen leaving Barrack 2. "Are you ready to get this show on the road?"

He nodded. "Almost. Carter's practicing how he's going to light the cauldron, Newkirk's working on his magic act and Kinch and LeBeau are working on the athlete's pledge. I'm going to say a few words too."

I covered my ears against the crash of hammers on metal. "What the hell was that?"

Hogan glanced over his shoulder. "They're making the cauldron out of Klink's wood stove. Baker tells me it'll look great when they're done reshaping it."

I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming. "How did you get Klink to approve all this?"

He stared at me like I was a moron. "It was easy. I told him the truth."

I frowned. "Really?"

He shrugged. "Well, I stroked his ego, made him think it was his idea and let nature take its course. Plus I promised him front row seats, a commemorative program, autographs from all the competitors…."

I waved my hands. "Okay, okay, I get it. I just have a hard time believing that would've been enough."

Hogan winced. "I told him he could be a judge too."

My eyebrows rose. "Kommandant Dead Fish? What does he know about love?"

"Nothing. It's just he practically begged me for something else to do. He's been going crazy over the plumbing in his quarters since his bathroom taps exploded."

I snorted. "Oh? You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you Colonel?"

He gave me an indignant look. "Certainly not. Now, Newkirk might be able to tell you on the other hand. He may have borrowed a cherry bomb Carter had hanging around to keep things interesting."

"Have you sent anyone over to fix it?"

He shook his head. "Some plumbers from town are working on it now. In the meantime, Klink has to have the water turned off. He hasn't showered for two days."

I chuckled. "You guys. One of these days you're going to get into trouble you can't get out of."

Hogan smirked. "If that happened, there'd hardly be any _Hogan's Heroes,_ would there?" He raised a finger to his lips. "Speaking of Klink, he's coming this way. Keep your big mouth shut until I get rid of him."

The scene cut to Klink dancing down the steps to his office. "Colonel Hogan! Isn't this a wonderful day?"

Hogan hooked his thumbs in his jacket pockets. "You couldn't have picked a better one for the competition, Kommandant." He raised his eyebrows as Klink blew on his hands. "Are you cold, sir?"

He nodded. "My office is chilly for some reason. I'll have to check my stove later." He watched the men constructing the grand stand. "Colonel, if I may ask, what possessed your men to want a Love Olympics?"

The American grinned. "Well, sir, boys will be boys. They're always bragging about who's the best in the romance department, so we decided to settle it once and for all."

Klink rubbed his hands together. "Well, I'm honoured your men asked me to judge the events." He lowered his voice, as if he planned to overthrow Hitler. "You know, Colonel, I may run the toughest POW camp in all of Germany, but I'm really a romantic at heart."

Maybe this won't be so bad after all, I thought.

"You know, the last time I was on leave, I met a wonderful Fraulein who loved poetry. I spent the night reciting every love poem I knew."

Hogan's smile grew wider. "How did she like it?"

The Kommandant's expression turned into one reminiscent of a cat about to be fixed. "She slapped me before spending the rest of the evening with some lousy General."

_Nope. Spoke too soon._

Hogan stifled a laugh. "Well, maybe you should stick with knocking the ladies dead with your impressive no escape record."

Klink started to reply when a short guard marched up to him. "Herr Kommandant, I beg to report."

The officer rolled his eyes as he returned the enlisted man's salute. "What is it? You're supposed to be supervising the plumbers."

"Yes," the guard stammered. "But there's been a little accident. There's water's everywhere."

Klink's face fell. "Oh no. Not again."

Hogan's face fell. "Aw, shucks, Kommandant. I guess you can't be our master of ceremonies now."

Klink puffed up his chest. "Of course I can. Gather your men and march them in. I'll only be a minute."

Kinch tapped Hogan's shoulder once the Iron Eagle flapped off. "We're all set Colonel."

"Good." The American turned and spotted Newkirk waving a handkerchief by the water tower. "You ready?"

The handkerchief disappeared. "Whenever you are Colonel!"

Hogan looked around. "Where's Carter?"

Kinch frowned. "Funny, he was here a minute ago."

"Carter!" Hogan called.

The sergeant poked his head around the barrack corner. "Yeah, Colonel?"

"Are you ready?"

"Not quite yet, sir."

Hogan groaned, checking his watch. "We haven't got all day, you know."

Carter's expression became pained. "Well, gee, you can't expect a guy to be ready for something as special as Olympic opening ceremonies at the drop of a hat. It takes time to prepare."

His superior furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm sure whatever you've got planned will be fine. Now, will you join the rest of us? We're about to start the parade of nations."

Josh groaned, worrying a hole in his pajama pants. "This is boring, Blue. Turn it off."

I pinched him. "Cut it out. You sound like your sister."

"Hey!" Teegan squeaked. "I think it's romantic. You're really going to write a dream girl for the winner?"

I nodded. "A deal's a deal."

"Pardon me, folks," Hogan grumbled. "We'd like to get started if you don't mind."

I motioned for them to go. "Please do. The kids have to be in bed by nine or my aunt'll freak."

Hogan clapped his hands. "You heard him, men. Fall in!" The men organized themselves into a line as he looked on. "Attention! Forward march!"

With that, the competitors marched to the stadium. For as motley a crew as they seemed, they had a commanding presence.

"They look like soldiers," Josh breathed in my ear.

"That's because they are, sort of," I whispered back. "They're in their country's air forces though, so I'm not sure if they're technically soldiers. Although, the army ran the air force during the war…."

"Halt!" Hogan shouted as the men reached the stadium. "Right face!"

The men made a crisp turn and faced the podium and stands as Klink raced over, his coat dripping with water. "Those dummkof plumbers don't know a wrench from a screwdriver," He huffed as he took his place on the dais. "At ease," he wheezed. "Gentlemen, please forgive my tardiness, but I had a little water matter to attend to." Newkirk winked to us as Klink forced a smile. "It's my great pleasure to welcome you to the first-ever Stalag 13 Love Olympics." The prisoners clapped politely. "Representing England- a mortal enemy of the Third Reich, which is home to famous writers of drivel such as Shakespeare and Robert Browning- Corporal Newkirk!"

Newkirk bristled, but waved as the RAF flyers whistled and stomped their feet. "I'll do you proud, chaps. There isn't a bird in the Empire I haven't won."

Klink flicked the riding crop under his arm. "Yes, yes, thank you Corporal. Now, representing France-a nation known for the art of love, which our leaders are currently civilizing- Corporal LeBeau."

LeBeau gave a small bow. "Perhaps we can teach you a thing or two Kommandant. I hear French women aren't very fond of German men's wooing. They prefer a little wine and soft music to being clubbed over the head and dragged off to a cave."

Klink's eyes widened with anger as the prisoners cheered. "That's enough! The next man who makes a sound will get 30 days in the cooler." The crowd quieted. "And now, representing the United States, a nation responsible for the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, Colonel Hogan, Sergeant Carter and Sergeant Kinchloe."

"That's not fair!" Carter yelled. "Just because a bunch of guys in Chicago decided to get a little trigger happy on Valentine's Day doesn't mean the rest of us are jerks! After all, we have Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, Clark Kent and Lois Lane, Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland…."

"Bonnie and Clyde!" Newkirk interjected.

Carter folded his arms. "Ha, ha, very funny!"

Klink cleared his throat. "I have a few words I'd like to say before we get started. I'm proud to say Germany has a fine athletic tradition and has proven to be a world class host for events such as the 1936 Summer Olympics."

Kinch grinned at LeBeau. "Yeah, and guys like Jesse Owens cleaned their clock."

I stifled a snicker and tried to pay attention to what Klink was saying. Something about good sportsmanship and making him proud.

Klink raised his hands. "And remember, all's fair in love and war."

Hogan led a round of polite applause as he walked on stage and elbowed old Blood and Guts out of his way. Klink, to his credit, stood aside, though you could see him resisting the temptation to strangle the other man.

The prisoners quieted down as Hogan raised his hands. "Men, I'll keep it short and sweet. I'm honored, as all the competitors are, to be participating in such a fine event and we plan to show the Germans what love is all about." He motioned to Kinch and LeBeau. "Gentlemen, if you'll come up here and lead us in our pledge."

LeBeau cleared his throat as he took the stage and raised his right hand. "In the name of all competitors, we promise we shall take part in these Love Olympic Games."

Kinch glanced at a note card and took up the next line. "To keep it clean and be the best romantics we can be.

"In the true spirit of chivalry, for the glory of love and the honour of womankind," they finished.

Hogan stepped forward as the men retreated. "Alright, it's time for some entertainment by Corporal Newkirk before we light the cauldron."

Newkirk bowed as he took his place on stage. "Ta for the hearty applause, mates. How are you enjoying this brass monkey weather?"

"It's terrible," Schultz moaned, pausing his patrol along the fence. "I feel like a penguin caught in a blizzard."

The crowd glared at him. "Nobody asked you!" one of the bit players hissed.

Josh leaned forward as the Englishman produced a deck of cards. He wailed when the scene cut to a staff car entering the compound so fast it almost hit the Olympic cauldron. "Awh! I wanna see the magic tricks!"

"Boy are you stupid," Teegan said in a snotty voice. "Everyone knows there's no such thing as magic."

Josh covered his ears and screamed. "No, no, no! There is! There is!"

Teegan argued with him for a minute, then threw a remote at his head.

"Cut it out, guys!" I shouted over the ruckus. "Obviously they're not showing us the magic show because whomever's in the car is more important. Besides, Teegan, who says there's no such thing as magic?"

She turned up her chin. "Mommy does."

"Figures. Mommy doesn't believe in the tooth fairy, Easter bunny or John Tesh either. Mommy is what I like to call no fun."

"Will you clam up?" Hogan said through his teeth, approaching the officer who exited the car. I almost jumped when the guy straightening his back. He was the size of a Yeti and looked almost as hairy.

"Kommandant Klink!" he growled.

Like Pavlov's proverbial mutt, Klink bounded over. The only things missing were a wagging tail and tongue. "I'm Kommandant Klink."

"I'm Captain Jahrsdorfer, Major Hochstetter' new assistant. He sent me here to pre-inspect Stalag 13 for him as a training exercise."

"A pre-inspection?" Klink and Hogan replied, almost in the same tone. Freaky, I thought.

Jahrsdorfer must have thought so too, for he hesitated for a moment. "What are you, parrots? You heard me!" He whipped out a notebook. "So this is the infamous Stalag 13?"

Klink smiled. "It certainly is. Just as I'm its tough but fair Kommandant."

Jahrsdorfer snorted. "Yes, Major Hochstetter told me all about your perfect record and the hanky panky that's happened in and around this camp. Although." He squinted malevolently toward the stage. "He never mentioned anything like this."

The Bald Eagle launched into his usual groveling routine. "Captain Jahrsdorfer, I can explain everything."

"It's the Love Olympics, Captain," Hogan interjected.

Jahrsdorfer scowled at him. "Who are you?"

"Colonel Hogan, senior POW in camp."

He motioned to the stands. "And what did you say this was?"

Hogan didn't bat an eyelash, even though the German looked like he wanted him for a mid-morning snack. "The Love Olympics." He pointed to the crowd. "Take a good look at these men and tell me what they have in common."

The Captain shrugged. "They're shabby examples of the Third Reich's enemies?"

"Try looking beyond that."

He scratched his blond beard. "They like magic tricks?"

Our hero shook his head. "These men are in the prime of their lives, and they've been away from women so long, they're not sure they know what to do if they see one again. So, we decided to hold some events to decide who deserves the title of Stalag 13 Casanova."

Jahrsdorfer turned to Klink, who still wore an idiotic grin. "And you approved this?"

The other German gave a 'what can you do?' gesture. "They even asked me to judge."

Jahrsdorfer raised his gaze skyward. "Unbelievable. Major Hochstetter warned me this place was a zoo. He should've said it was an asylum." He turned on his heels. "I've seen enough. I'll be off to make my report."

Hogan blocked his way back to the car. He looked like a pork chop trying to hold off a pack of wolves. "Why don't you join us and see what the games are all about?"

"Are you crazy?" the German protested. "I have more important things to do."

"Come, come," Klink clucked. "Let's see if we can't change your opinion of us."

Jahrsdorfer didn't have a chance. The two Colonels grabbed him and plopped him down on a seat close to centre stage before he could say 'Heil Hitler.'

Newkirk looked at his commander, then at Jahrsdorfer, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Well, well, well. It looks like we have his Lordship here. Pardon me, sir, but would you help me demonstrate me last trick?"

The German turned scarlet as the crowd stomped and whistled encouragement. "C'mon!" Hogan yelled in his ear. "Give it a try!"

Seeing no other escape, Jahrsdorfer rose and joined Newkirk. Or, more accurately, Hogan pushed Hochstetter's aide on stage. Newkirk flinched when he realized he was dealing with the not-so-friendly giant, but, ever the showman, he didn't let on for more than a second. "Ta, sir. My, you've been eating all your vegetables haven't you? You're as big as the Tower of London."

He clenched his jaw. "Get on with it."

"Might I have your pocket watch, sir?" Newkirk whistled as Jahrsdorfer reluctantly reached into his coat and handed over a gold piece. "Marvelous bauble this is. Must've cost you a pretty mark." He turned to a side table. "Now, I take the watch and wrap it in the Kommandant's handkerchief."

Klink frowned, feeling up his jacket. "That dirty Englishman! How did he get it? I could've sworn I still had it on me."

The handkerchief disappeared from Newkirk's palm. "Voilà, the watch is no more."

Jahrsdorfer clapped politely with everyone, then stuck out his hand. "Very clever. Now hand it over."

Newkirk reached into his pocket, his face falling. "Uh oh."

The German giant glowered. "What do you mean, uh oh?"

The Corporal checked his pockets. "I can't find it."

Jahrsdorfer grabbed Newkirk by the lapels. "That was a present my wife gave me for our first anniversary!" he shrieked. "Hand it over now, or I'll make you wish you'd died when we shot you down!"

Newkirk let off a nervous giggle, his hands working overtime. "Check your right pocket, sir."

Jahrsdorfer reached in and sighed in relief as his fingers wrapped around the piece. "You're a very lucky man." 

Newkirk brushed himself off. "Luck has nothing to do with it. I'm gifted." He turned to the audience. "Ta. You've been wonderful. Hope you'll come see me when I play the Palladium."

Hogan escorted Jahrsdorfer back to his seat and scanned the crowd. "Carter, you're up."

The Sergeant turned to the man behind him. "Olsen, you know that stuff I asked you to hold onto? I need it now." He hoisted a bow and arrow over his head and nudged his way through the crowd. "Excuse me. Sorry. Watch it. I don't want to poke you with this."

Jahrsdorfer bolted up in alarm. "Your prisoners are armed, Klink? What have you got between your ears, a dish rag?"

Hogan patted the man's shoulder. "Relax Captain. He won't attack anyone."

Jahrsdorfer flung the Colonel's hand away. "Get away from me!" He shook his finger at Klink. "I'll make my report to Major Hochstetter now. _In_ person."

"Captain Jahrsdorfer, wait!" Klink called, playing puppy again as he followed on the aide's heels.

Carter looked at Hogan. "What should I do?"

His commander shrugged. "Light the cauldron anyway."

"Yes sir." Carter closed one eye as Olsen soaked a rag with a canteen and wrapped it around the arrow's tip. He flicked a cigarette lighter on and held it to the rag, backing up when it caught.

"Wait!" Klink whined, almost stamping his feet as the staff car drove off.

Carter pulled the string back, paused, then released the arrow. It was a shot worthy of William Tell. It might've made the cauldron is the wind hadn't shifted. It might not have been a disaster if the Captain's car hadn't been leaking fuel where the arrow landed.

"Oops," Little Deer muttered, blushing as the arrow set a fiery trail toward the car's undercarriage. The driver must have seen the flames, as he and Jahrsdorfer, jumped out and bolted before the car exploded. The looks on their faces, distorted in the inferno, were priceless.

Hogan patted Carter's back. "Great shooting, as always, Geronimo."


	3. Chapter 3

I'd never seen Teegan and Josh laugh as hard as they did when those Germans flew out of that staff car. _If I'd known they liked flaming vehicles, I would've brought Season Three and watched _Drums Along the Dusseldorf. I frowned. _Then again, maybe not. We'd probably have singed curtains by now._

I couldn't hide my delight, though, at seeing the apoplectic captain putting his smoldering coat out once he crawled away from the wreckage. Unfortunately, his temper proved hotter than his car, as he dragged Klink into his office and gave the Kommandant a tongue lashing worthy of Hochstetter.

"Captain Jahrsdorfer, please," Klink stammered, all but falling to his knees. "This is all a misunderstanding. What happened to your car was an unfortunate accident. I assure you this is an isolated incident." He glared at Hogan, who hovered in the background. "It won't happen again."

Hogan approached the giant, and Klink's phone. He took a penknife out of his pocket so quickly I wasn't sure I saw him do it. "Gosh, Captain, we're awfully sorry Carter blew your car up." With the precision of a surgeon, he cut the phone cord in such a way the untutored eye wouldn't spot his handiwork. "He'd really like to make it up to you."

Jahrsdorfer reached for the phone. "Too little too late. When I'm done with you, Klink, you'll be spitting ice cubes at the Russian Front."

Klink gaped like a fish, his gaze flicking from his senior POW to the Third Reich terror who dared throw the R word around.

"Hello? Hello!" Jahrsdorfer shouted, jabbing the knobs on the cradle before slamming down the receiver. "Klink, what's wrong with your phone? I can't get a dial tone."

Klink held the receiver to his ear. "I don't understand. It worked earlier this morning."

Hogan smirked, putting the knife away.

"Fraulein Helga!" Klink called.

My first crush entered the office wearing a tasteful white blouse and black skirt. "Jawohl Herr Kommandant?"

"Is your phone working?"

Her blue eyes glanced at Hogan, who gave her a quick wink. "Nein, Herr Kommandant."

Klink arched his eyebrows. "Not even this morning?"

She shook her head. "Nein. Not even this morning."

He waved her away. "Thank you. Have Corporal _Langenscheidt go into town for a repairman."_

Hogan's expression turned somber. "Well, Captain, it looks like you're stuck here with us."

"Nonsense!" Jahrsdorfer scoffed. "Klink, I'm requisitioning one of your vehicles."

Klink attempted a casual laugh, which sound more like a squeak. "Captain, I'm afraid all our vehicles are either out or being repaired."

"What about this Corporal Langenscheidt? Why can't he take me into town with him?"

The Kommandant hesitated. "He's riding his bicycle. I would've offered it to you, but I doubt a man of your stature would've wanted it."

Jahrsdorfer glared at Hogan. "My, my. Phones that's don't work, cars that don't work, armed prisoners, guards on bicycles and Olympic Games. I'm sure Major Hochstetter will find all of this very fascinating when I make my report." He turned to Klink. "I want use of the first vehicle that comes into camp."

Hogan glanced at the clock. "Speaking of Olympic Games, I should be getting back to them. My men are waiting."

Klink waved his index finger at the American. "Hogan, you're staying right here. Captain Jahrsdorfer's problems are more important than any games."

Jahrsdorfer rubbed his temples. "Let him leave. Someone should have that privilege around here."

Klink's mind changed gears so fast I swore I heard them grind. "Very well, Hogan. Dismissed."

Hogan started for the door, then stopped, as if deep in thought. He snapped his fingers a moment later. "Say, Captain, why don't you watch our first event? It'll pass some time until Colonel Klink can find a car for you. I bet he'll even let you take his seat on the judging panel."

Klink's smile vanished. "I will?" He swallowed any further protest when Jahrsdorfer scowled at him. "I mean I will."

The Gestapo officer shook his head. "I'm not interested."

Hogan crossed his arms. "With all due respect, Captain, I don't think you've given our camp a fair chance. Why don't you let us give you the full Stalag 13 experience?"

A smile tugged at Jahrsdorfer's lips. "If blowing up my car is any indication of how you treat guests here, thank you, but no thank you."

Hogan tipped back his cap. "C'mon, Captain, what've you got to lose? It'll be more interesting watching us than sitting around here."

Jahrsdorfer tapped his chair for a moment, then sighed. "Very well, I'll judge your silly competition." He turned to Klink. "Have one of your staff notify me immediately after you find a car."

Hogan grinned. "Excellent. I promise you won't regret it."

"Blue," Teegan whined, jarring me out of the action.

I glanced at her. "What?" I hissed. "Remember to keep your voice down. We don't want them hearing us."

"Okay," she whispered. "I need to go the bathroom."

My eyebrows rose. "How old are you, three? If you have to go, go!" I hissed.

She tapped Josh's shoulder and whispered something in his ear before taking off her 3D glasses and sliding off the couch.

I frowned. "What are you doing? I thought you said you had to go to the bathroom."

"Uh, huh," she said, scurrying away.

"Blue," Josh murmured. "Can I get some juice?"

I nodded. "Okay but don't make a mess in the kitchen."

He took off too, leaving me with all my friends.

Hey, I thought. _I can grab a beer out of Uncle Bruce's stash, since nobody's around to tattle on me to Aunt Yvonne ._

I got up and crept to the garage. _This is where he hides it if I remember right._

I flipped the light on and moaned when I saw the piles of tools and greasy rags. I coughed, trying to wave the smell of motor oil away. "Jeeze, Uncle Bruce. Would it kill you to air this place out? What the hell have you been doing in here, anyway, fumigating roaches?"

I swore as I made my way through the mess, knocking a couple cans of marine paint over in the process. "This garage looks like it belongs on _Hoarders_. It's nothing a dumpster and a shovel wouldn't fix."

I found the beer hiding in the screw and nail cabinet. I popped the top off a can when I heard giggles inside the house.

"Guys?" I called. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" Teegan shouted back.

I put the beer back in the cabinet and headed for the living room. "That doesn't sound like nothing."

I reached the hallway in time to hear feet pounding back to the couch. "Okay, what's going on?" I said, hurrying after them.

"Nothing," Josh echoed, curling up against his sister.

I crossed my arms. "You mean it?"

Josh put his glasses on. "Cross my heart, hope to die."

I sighed. "Alright. But whatever you've done better not come back to bite me in the ass."

I turned back to the TV, which showed a fuzzy-looking Hogan sitting in his quarters. "Hey!" he growled. "Have a nice intermission? In case you forgot, this is live on my end!"

"Sorry." I slipped my 3D glasses back on. "What did I miss?"

He tied his bootlace. "Kinch heard from London a little while ago. Our underground contact will quote a line from the song _Brother Can You Spare a Dime _so we can identify him."

"Okay," I said. "So where's Kinch now?"

"He's still on the radio with London getting a few more details about the mission. Now, I need to know what competition we're doing first."

I looked at the kids. "What do you want to see?"

"Magic tricks!" my youngest cousin shouted.

"Josh, use your indoor voice!" I groaned while Teegan clamped her hand over his mouth. "Jeeze, I sound just like your mother."

"Everything all right in there, Colonel?" LeBeau called from the outer room. "The Captain's starting to think you're trying to escape."

Hogan turned to the door. "Everything's fine." He fixed us with a piercing stare. "Hurry up, will you? I don't know how much longer my men can keep him occupied."

My mind raced. "Well, uh, why don't you guys start at the beginning? How about a pick up-line competition, to see who can get a date the fastest?"

Hogan's expression remained skeptical. "Okay. Just who are we going to ask out?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. You're the one who's good at making stuff up off the top of your head, not me. Why don't you get Hilda or Helga? They're probably the handiest."

"Colonel!" Newkirk called. "You'd better come quick."

Hogan rose. "That's my cue. One charm competition coming up." He yanked the door open and bumped into Klink and a familiar blob stuffed into a blue Heer uniform.

Teegan cupped her hand to my ear. "Who's the fatso?"

"He would be General Burkhalter."

Burkhalter tipped to one side, then recovered himself. "Ah, there you are Colonel Hogan. Now, will you please tell me what's going on?" He frowned at the Iron Eagle. "Klink has been most uninformative on the matter. He keeps babbling about some sort of Love Olympics."

Hogan tried to lead Burkhalter toward the barrack door. "That's right sir. We're holding some contests to determine who Stalag 13's best Casanova is."

Burkhalter's expression soured. "So Klink was serious?"

The Colonel nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"How fascinating," a woman's voice piped up. "The things prisoners do to pass the time."

Hogan flinched as a lump of brown tweed appeared beside her brother. "Hello, Frau Linkmeyer. I didn't see you there."

She patted Burkhalter's stomach. "I'm not surprised. Bertie's been eating too much Bratwurst lately."

Burkhalter narrowed his eyes. "I'll thank you to mind your own business, Gertrude."

She ignored him. "Tell me, Colonel, what kind of things does one do when one competes in a 'Love Olympics?'"

Hogan let off a laugh. "Well, we're about to decide who can charm a woman the best. We wanted to ask the Kommandant if we could borrow his secretary to try our best lines on."

Frau Linkmeyer fiddled with the head on her fox stole. "Oh, there's no need to bother her. You have a perfectly good woman standing right in front of you."

"We do?" Newkirk whispered to Baker, who motioned for him to shut up.

Hogan coughed. "Of course we'd be honoured to have your help, Frau Linkmeyer, but I imagine you must have more pressing business to attend to."

The widow glared at her brother. "I don't know if we do anymore, right Bertie?"

Burkhalter squirmed. "Gertrude."

"Tell him why!" she snapped.

The General shifted his weight. "We were on our way to Hammelburg for a funeral when our car started shaking and making a funny sound."

"It was a chugging noise," she interjected. "I told him to pull over and check the engine, but 'no,' he said. 'It'll be fine.' Well, the car broke down in front of the camp." She shook her head. "That's what I get for listening to a man who doesn't know which end of a wrench is up."

"Gertrude!" Burkhalter barked.

She rolled her eyes. "Now, we're waiting for Kommandant Klink to find a vehicle for us so we can be on our way."

Jahrsdorfer snorted. "What's with this camp and transportation? At the rate we're going, the only way we all get out of here is by horse and wagon."

Frau Linkmeyer glared at him before turning to Hogan. "As you can see, I have nothing else to do but help your men decide who the greater romantic is. So what do you say?" She gave him a look I guessed she intended as seductive. Truthfully, it looked creepy coming from a woman her age. "I promise you I won't be an easy challenge."

Hogan bit his lip. _I believe you._

Burkhalter leaned toward his sister's ear. "Gertrude, I don't think this is an appropriate way for you to pass the time."

Klink nodded. "Yes, Frau Linkmeyer, I must agree with the General. There are many better things you could do."

Frau Linkmeyer clenched her jaw. "Who asked you?" She redirected her ire at her brother. "Bertie, you have no right to tell me what to do."

His face turned scarlet. "Of course, I do. I'm your brother!"

"And I'm your sister! Maybe if you treated me better, I'd be more inclined to respect your feelings." She looked back at Hogan. "Don't listen to him."

Burkhalter gave her a puzzled look. "Why would you want the enemy wooing you?"

Klink gripped his riding crop. "Yes, Frau Linkmeyer, why would you want the enemy wooing you?"

"Klink!" Burkhalter snapped. "I can handle this without your interference." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Well?"

Frau Linkmeyer adjusted her black gloves. "Enemy or not, they're still men, which are rapidly becoming a rare commodity in Germany." Her expression became sad. "Please, let me pretend, if only for a moment, there's no war, where I'm young and pretty again. You have no idea how lonely it gets not being loved night after night. Besides." She lowered her voice. "I don't relish the idea of straightening Klink's filing cabinet out again."

Burkhalter's eyebrows rose. "Have you lost your mind? You should be ashamed of yourself, saying those sorts of things."

She laughed. "What are you afraid of, one of them becoming your brother in-law? It's all in fun. Besides, I can handle any one of these men. They won't cause any trouble."

Klink puffed out his chest. "Yes, indeed General Burkhalter. If there's one thing you can count on, it's the prisoners not causing trouble. But, Frau Linkmeyer, there are still many eligible men around. Men like me."

"Shut up, Klink!" brother and sister shouted.

Burkhalter spoke next. "Gertrude, my final answer's no."

Frau Linkmeyer ground her teeth. "Either you let me do this, or I'm going to tell Berta about the unfortunate incident with the fraulein in Dusseldorf."

Burkhalter's jowls sagged. "You wouldn't."

She folded her arms. "Wouldn't I?"

Burkhalter balled his hands into fists, his eyebrows furrowed in thought before he sighed. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to let you have a little fun." He raised an index finger at Hogan. "You and your men had better watch what you say. She's a gentlewoman of Germany. One wrong word, and I'll have you shot, Klink or no Klink. Do you understand me?"

Hogan frowned. "But sir!"

Burkhalter glared at Hogan in a manner he usually reserved for Klink. "What's the matter, Hogan? You needed a woman and you have a perfectly good one in my sister."

"Yes, Herr General," the Kommandant clucked. "A perfectly good woman."

Burkhalter rolled his eyes. "Klink, why are you even here? You're supposed to be requisitioning another car for me!"

Klink saluted and scuttled off. "Yes, Herr General. Right away, Herr General."

Hogan pursed his lips. "Right. Let's get started."

Frau Linkmeyer smiled at the American Colonel. "Do your worst."

Hogan looked at the extras staggered around the room. "Who's judging this competition?"

Olsen hopped off his bunk. "I am, sir, and let me assure you, I'm more than qualified." He whispered in his CO's ear. "You've never asked me what I do as Stalag 13's outside man."

Jahrsdorfer checked his pocket watch. "Can we get on with this, please?"

"What's your hurry?" Carter asked, lining up beside LeBeau. "You got a bus to catch or something?"

Hogan stuck his thumbs in his jacket pocket. "No, the Captain's right, fellas." He motioned to the Frenchman. "LeBeau, you're up."

LeBeau frowned at the widow, who now leaned against the bunk closest to the door. "Colonel, do we really…?"

Hogan nodded. "Just pretend you're at home and she's a pretty girl you saw on the street."

LeBeau raised his gaze to the ceiling. "Vive La France," he muttered. He took a deep breath and started for her, pausing by the stove to pick up an imaginary object. "Excusez-moi, madame. Would you permit me to present you with a bouquet of roses?" He smiled as he sniffed them. "The florist cut them himself this morning."

Frau Linkmeyer accepted the make-believe flowers awkwardly. "Danka, Herr…."

He swept his beret from his head and bowed. "Louis LeBeau at your service."

She sniffed them. "They're lovely. Tell me, what sort of man gives a strange girl flowers?"

LeBeau shrugged. "Where I come from, it's customary to present a pretty girl with a token of his admiration."

"And how many pretty girls have received such tokens from you?"

He counted on his fingers. "Only one or two."

Frau Linkmeyer's smile returned. "Well, that's certainly a relief."

LeBeau took her hand in his. "Good. Would you allow me the honour of joining you for dinner?"

She jerked it back. "Don't you even want to know my name?"

LeBeau's smile faltered for a moment. "You're a girl, I'm a boy. I know all I need to know. Besides, I feel like we've known each other all over lives. Perhaps we were two of the great soul mates of history, like Napoleon and Josephine."

She frowned. "Didn't Napoleon replace Josephine with a younger woman?"

Olsen made a slicing motion against his throat when she turned away from the Frenchman. "That's a wrap." He motioned to Carter. "Your turn."

Carter ambled forward, stopping a few feet away from the widow to look her over.

Frau Linkmeyer tapped her foot. "What's the matter, Sergeant? Have I grown a second head?"

Ignoring her, Carter turned his gaze to the wood ceiling.

"Sergeant!" Burkhalter rumbled.

The American shook his head to clear it. "Huh? Oh, sorry." He closed the gap between himself and the German woman. "I was just looking at the sky. Have you ever seen such pretty stars?"

Frau Linkmeyer looked up. "I suppose not. I've never thought about them much."

Carter's eyes widened. "Gosh, how could you not? I'm always thinking about the stars. You know, my dad says they're made up all the people we love and all their hopes and dreams."

Frau Linkmeyer's eyes moistened. "That's a lovely thought. I can think of many people I'd like watching over me."

I frowned. _Where the hell is he going with this?_

"I like to think my grandma and grandpa are up there," Carter continued. "Grandpa used to take me fishing by a little river that ran past their house and Grandma would always come by with a plate of chocolate chip cookies. I'll never forget all the man-to-man talks my grandpa and I had, or the way Grandma's cookies melted in my mouth when I bit into them."

She cleared her throat. "My father used to take me fishing using wooden rods he made. It used to relax him after a long day at work." Burkhalter opened his mouth and closed it much like a catfish. "I remember the first time I caught one. It jerked the line so hard I almost dropped my rod. But he helped me bring it up and carry it home for my mother to cook." She sighed. "My father was not a very emotional man, but I'll never forget how proud he looked as he ate that fish."

Burkhalter squirmed, his knuckles turning white as he balled his hands into fists.

Carter gave Frau Linkmeyer a lopsided smile. "I always liked a girl who could fish. What's your name?"

She returned the grin. "Gertrude."

"I'm Andrew." He offered his arm. "Say, would you like to grab a cup of coffee and swap some fish stories? I know a nice quiet place."

She accepted his arm. "I'd be delighted."

Olsen rose from his seat at the barrack's table. "Time. Newkirk, you're up."

The Englishman glared at Carter. "Listen to this bloke. 'Me grandmum used to bake me biscuits. Me granddad used to take me trout baiting.' You're supposed to be romancing the bird, not fishing."

Carter frowned. "What's the matter with what I said? I told her the truth."

"Birds want charm, not gills," Newkirk muttered. "Watch this." He headed for Burkhalter's sister, bracing himself on her shoulders when he bumped into her. "Pardon me."

Frau Linkmeyer's thin eyebrow's arched, though she said nothing.

Newkirk took a few more steps before turning around. "Excuse me, miss, but is this yours?" He held up a gold locket, which bounced on its chain.

She reached up to her neck, her cheeks reddening. "I guess I did."

Burkhalter drummed his fingers on his coat. "Klink is going to have to lock these men in the cooler. They're no better than common thieves, stealing necklaces."

Newkirk wrapped the chain around her neck. "It must've come loose."

Frau Linkmeyer fingered the locket. "How did you know it was mine?"

He flashed his most charming grin. "It had to be yours; a beautiful necklace for a beautiful woman."

Teegan and Josh covered their faces with their hands. I rolled my eyes."Way to go, Newkirk. That line's so corny, you could pop, butter and eat it."

Frau Linkmeyer smiled. "Danka Corporal. You're very sweet, and very charming."

"Call me Peter." He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "Who might you be, love?"

She giggled. "Gertrude."

"Pretty name, Gertrude. Do you like to dance?" She nodded. "Well, what do you say we stop by a pub and have a laugh?"

Frau Linkmeyer glanced at her perturbed brother. "All right. I have to ask my father first though."

Newkirk's smile sagged. "Your father?"

She nodded. "He's a policeman."

"Cut!" Olsen shouted, looking around the room while the Englishman tugged at his turtleneck. "Has anyone seen Kinch?"

Uh oh, I thought.

Burkhalter frowned. "Well Colonel Hogan, where is he?"

"I sent him to clean the Kommandant's office," Hogan blurted. "You must've missed him on his way over."

"Well, at least he's right on the job," Burkhalter muttered. "Unlike Klink, who doesn't even have a phone he could use to requisition another car."

"You're kidding me, Burkhalter's the underground agent?" I whispered. "He can't be, can he?" Personally, I'd never bought the Burkhalter being Nimrod theory.

Josh gave me a funny look. "Huh?"

"That part about being on the job is a lyric from _Brother Can You Spare a Dime?_ That means he could be their contact."

Hogan shrugged, as if to say _there's only one way to find out,_ and leaned closer to Jabba the German. "You know sir, I used to be part of building a dream."

Burkhalter gave no indication he'd heard.

Hogan cleared his throat. "I said, sir, I used to be part of building a dream."

Burkhalter gave him a sharp look. "Good for you. Tell my sister that. She might find it interesting."

"So much for that theory," I muttered.

"Well," Olsen said. "It's your turn, Colonel."

Hogan straightened his jacket and cap. "Wish me luck, fellas."

Frau Linkmeyer sighed, preparing for the onslaught as Hogan approached her.

He leaned against the bunk beside her. "You know, I used to be part of building a dream."

She frowned. "What?"

"I used to be part of building a dream." He waved his hand when she stared at him like he'd walked off the good ship Lollipop. "Never mind."

She narrowed her eyes. "Colonel, this is the strangest way anyone's ever tried to woo me."

I hate to admit it; I agreed with her. Hogan never usually had this much trouble getting started. _Hopefully they haven't locked him up so long he's forgotten how this works._

He flashed his most dashing grin. "I'm sure you hear this all the time, but what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"

She tapped her foot. "Colonel, you may find it hard to believe, but I've had men use every conceivable line on me and that's the most unoriginal of them all. We both know you can do better than that."

Hogan looked away. "You're right. An intelligent, charming, beautiful." He shoved the words out. "Woman like yourself deserves better than that."

Frau Linkmeyer looked him over. "Go on." 

He shook his head. "No."

She tilted her chin. "No?"

"You see Frau Linkmeyer, I want to know more about you. What you like, what you don't like, what you think, how you feel." His gaze held hers in a hypnotic manner. "I find you very interesting."

I grinned. "That's it Hogan, you old dog." I nudged Josh. "Start taking notes. You're learning from the master."

Frau Linkmeyer's lips quivered. "Really? No man's ever said that to me before."

Hogan took her hand in his. "Then the men you've known were fools." He raised her fingers to his lips. "I'm no fool. I know a good woman when I see one. To me, a woman is like a fine wine. The outside package doesn't matter. It's what inside that counts."

She giggled. "Colonel Hogan, you're too kind."

"Young women's beauty and age are fleeting. A true woman is ageless and timeless, the type all men should strive to be worthy of." He offered his arm. "I know I'm hardly worthy, but would you, a true woman, do me the honour of sharing a cup of coffee in my quarters?"

She reached for him and started walking away as Olsen rose. "Thank you, Colonel. Judges, please tabulate your votes."

I turned to the kids. "Okay," I whispered. "Who do you think should win?"

"I thought LeBeau was the cutest," Teegan murmured.

"Newkirk did a magic trick," Josh replied.

I rolled my eyes. "Josh, can't you think of anything but magic?"

My cousin scrunched up his face. "But I like magic tricks."

Teegan punched his arm. "Boy, you are dumb. I keep telling you there's no such thing as magic."

I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Guys, we have to give them scores, remember?"

It was too late. My own little World War had broken out on the couch.

"Okay." I looked back at the TV, where Hogan's face filled the screen. "Give LeBeau a 7, Newkirk a 7, Carter an 7 and yourself a 10."

Hogan smirked while he wrote the numbers down. "Teacher's pet." He motioned to one of the extras I'd seen somewhere before, who then ran it over to Olsen.

A few moments later, Olsen cleared his throat. "The winners of the charm competition are: third place, Corporal Louis LeBeau."

A few cheers went up for the Frenchman, who bowed.

"Second place, Sgt. Andrew Carter."

Carter pointed to himself as the barracks filled with confused chatter. "Me? Really?"

Olsen held up a hand to quiet the men. "Finally, first place goes to," he paused. "Colonel Hogan."

"Ruddy charming," Newkirk muttered as a few cheers rose. "Colonel Hogan winning a charm competition makes sense, but in what world does Carter take second place?"

Olsen sat down. "Thank you for coming everyone."

Frau Linkmeyer removed a handkerchief from her pocket. "Thank goodness. I don't know if I could've stood another moment of being preyed on. Bertie, shall we see if Kommandant Klink has located a car for us?"

Burkhalter lead his sister away. "That's the first good idea you've had all day. I knew no good could come from such ridiculousness." He motioned to Jahrsdorfer. "Why don't you join us Captain?"

Jahrsdorfer rose. "I'd be delighted. I could use a break from the insanity in this barrack."

The gang tried to look casual as the Germans left, then crowded around the trapdoor to the tunnels. "LeBeau, watch the door," Hogan said. "I'm going to ask Kinch what London wanted."

I started to offer my own suggestion when the doorbell rang. What the hell? I thought, peeling myself off the couch with a ripping noise.

The doorbell rang again when I was halfway to the door. "Alright, alright!" I barked. "I'm coming."

I threw the door open. "What do you want?" I shouted.

A six-foot tall guy with a ZZ-Top beard, who looked suspiciously like my ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend, greeted me. He cracked his knuckles, which rippled the naked women tattoos up his arms. "I've got something for you, Blue. Something I've waited too long to give you."


End file.
